Apples and Teacups
by XxBlaiddxX
Summary: "Hey. Don't be like this." Teresa placed a hand on her hip, her other holding the arm of a pair of sleek black glasses. Her mouth was pursed, her eyebrows were raised. She was in exactly the mood Patrick Jane both loved and hated simultaneously. - A collection of Jane x Lisbon drabbles I've been saving. Expect light, fluffy cuteness. Most set post-series, season 7 spoilers.
1. Markswomanship

"Smell that air, Lisbon. Smell it! It smells like success. True success, of course, not the contrived notions of success society tries to push down our throats."

He lifted his wife's hand with his own into the air with a sharp, long intake of air, only to swing it back down again with a loud exhaling.

"It's certainly a start," she commented with a shy smile, putting her free arm around his waist. She looked back to the quaint cabin, finally cozy enough to spend an evening in. "You've done a good job." He beamed down at her and kissed her hand, which anymore always led to him kissing her mouth, and then feeling the need to kiss her belly. Up until a month before she'd been saying things like, 'You're just kissing the burger I ate yesterday,' or 'You must really love that case-closed pizza, huh?'. She'd stopped now, -though it didn't stop her from rolling her eyes- because it was undeniable. The bump was a real bump, and Patrick Jane saw to it that it was kissed, and frequently.

"C'mon," she said, tugging gently at his sleeve. "I want to get back before it gets much later. God knows what kinds of creatures come out after dark."

"Ehh." He stood up, smoothing out the rumples in his pants. "I have faith in your markswomanship."

She cocked an eyebrow and lip at him. "I...don't think that's actually a word, Jane."

"Sure it is. Have you checked the dictionary lately? They're letting them all in. If it's not already, soon as we get home, I'm sending an email to the good people at Websters. It'll be accepted by breakfast."


	2. Glasses

"Hey. Don't be like this." Teresa placed a hand on her hip, her other holding the arm of a pair of sleek black glasses. Her mouth was pursed, her eyebrows were raised. She was in exactly the mood Patrick Jane both loved and hated simultaneously. That all-business, 'I'm-the-boss' attitude. That, 'get-your-crap-together-Jane-or-so-help-me' mood.

He raised his face from the paper he was squinting at the breakfast table, and locked eyes with his lovely, peeved wife. Her face softened visibly and he had to smile inside. All these years later and she still loved him just as much as the day they said their vows.

The feeling was mutual.

He reached out and took the glasses from her hand, turned them over in his own a few times. "It means that much to you?" He replied.

"Jane," (she only called him Jane when she was trying to stay objective.) "It's about your eyesight. Why did we go to the optometrist anyway, if you were going to just ignore everything he said about eyestrain?"

"Well, ah, *we* went because *we* love you and decided to humor you." As he spoke he slipped on the dark, rectangular frames, and pulled her towards him. "*we* can easily see through your thin attempt to hide the fact that you think glasses on me are sexy." He held her waist between his hands, and tilted his head up towards her furiously blushing face. "Because *we* think you're adorable when you're embarrassed."


	3. Fluffy

"I have a surprise for you." Jane gently covered her eyes with his hands,rough and callused, smelling of hay and pine needles.

Her eyebrows shot up, a smirky smile playing on her lips. "Yeah? What kind?"

"The good kind. The kind that makes you go, 'aww'."

"Mmm-hmm," she remarked, stifling a laugh. "Okay. Lead me."

He steered her to the left, then to the right, then spun her a couple times for good measure. He took his hands away and made an elaborate flourish towards the small creature in the the pen he had led her to.

'Oh...oh my god, Jane, what?" She laughed in surprise and joy, and leaned down to touch the fuzzy animal on it's nose.

"Do you want to hold her?"

"I...can I?" It nuzzled her fingers, prompting a squeal from her when it nibbled at her fingertips.

"She's yours. Course you can." He leaned down and picked up the wobbly lamb and carefully placed it in his wife's arms.

It bleated pathetically and struggled a moment before relaxing into her chest and closing it's tired eyes. Lisbon locked eyes with Jane, her smile saying it all.

"I just thought," he began with a shrug, but didn't get the rest of his words out. His wife's mouth was pressed to his, and he couldn't quite remember why saying things had ever been important.


	4. ABC's

"What should we name her?" The words spilled slowly out of the mouth of a sleepy, pregnant, sun-kissed woman.

It was dusk on the ranch, the sky lit on fire and slowly burning out in brilliance. They sat together on a sturdy wooden bench covered with an old blanket, on the front porch of the cabin they shared. Insects were coming out of hiding, the night air softly and slowly filling with their myriads of noises. Her head was in his lap, her fingers tracing the outline of her swollen belly. His head was tilted back, propped against the cabin. His fingers were tangled in her hair, lost in the waves the humidity brought to it.

"Well..." He began. "I don't know. What do you think we should name her?"

She opened one eye and poked him lightly in the ribs. "I asked you first!"

The man grinned lazily, simultaneously stretching his legs out in front of him. "We can go through the alphabet again. How about 'Alice'?" He swatted at a gnat that landed on his nose.

"Ehh...too Brady bunch."

"What?"

"The 70's sitcom? She was the maid?" She started softly humming the theme, then realized who she was talking to. "Never mind, pop culture." She waved her hand dismissively.

"Oookay. Alright, next in the alphabet, B….b for 'Bertha'?"

"Seriously?" The eye came open again to stare at the bemused face of her husband.

"What's wrong with 'Bertha'?" He asked with mock innocence.

"I would even subject that name to a dog, Jane."

"Cledith?"

" _Jane_."

"Darlene?"

"Okay, okay. we don't have to talk about names right now. Happy?" She laughed sleepily.

"Happy."

 **Thank you so much for the lovely reviews, guys! I wasn't planning on posting so soon, but the wonderful feedback provided some much-needed motivation. ^-^ You're the best!**


	5. Tests

"I don't even know why they do these stupid tests. Put your heart through a wringer before...before there's even a reason to. " Teresa bit her lip and averted her eyes, holding back tears of fear and worry.

"You know why. More information makes us better prepared."

"I know...I know. I just...I just want to not be here." She shivered ever so slightly in her hospital gown, which prompted her husband to jump up on the table next to her and put his arms around her. "You know they're going to make you get down..." She protested weakly.

"I'd like to see them try." He placed his own hand over hers, resting atop the small baby bump.

It elicited a small smile from her pale face. At least she wasn't doing this alone. The days of handling everything herself were over.

"Everything is going to be fine, Teresa." He kissed her forehead, and leaned his own against it. "No matter what."

"Sometimes..." She began. She took a deep breath, and took ahold of his hand. "Sometimes I'm glad you're such a damn good liar."

 ** _A/N- Something a little more serious this time! Hope you still liked it. And again, thank you so much for the overwhelming support and appreciation!_** **\- Lati**


	6. Fiji

"What is it?" Teresa Jane put down the personnel files she'd been balancing on her belly, and fixed her husband with a stare.

"What is what?"

"That look on your face...it always makes me nervous."

"I don't know what you're talking about." The slight smile raised one corner of the blond man's mouth.

She rolled her eyes, sighed, and set the files aside. 'I'm in no mood for games, Jane. My feet feel like bricks, my neck feels like it's permanently fused in one position, And the rest of me just feels like a whale."

"Well, I do sympathize," he replied, setting his teacup in the table in front of him. "Can I make you some herbal tea? You've already had your _one_ cup of coffee for the day, yes?"

Teresa's lip shot up in a sneer. "Don't rub it in. And don't bother. It would just be a hot, disappointing reminder."

"Suit yourself. You really should give it a try, though. It can be very soothing."

"I don't need soothed. I need to not be pregnant anymore. This child is sucking all the fun out of being alive. Oh, quit smiling. You get to have all the fun in this."

He didn't hide his amusement. "You know, you could relax and actually take your maternity leave seriously. We could go somewhere exotic...Fiji...Morocco..."

"It's just this case at work... Cho is shorthanded and I want to help, even if it's just going through job applicants to weed out the duds."

"I think Cho is perfectly capable of delegating to agents who aren't seven months pregnant."

"Oh, god." She put her face in her hands. "Is it only seven? I thought it was at least eight. Where is my brain?"

"My guess? Somewhere in Fiji. We should go find it."

 ** _A/N- I have started following..not really a story, but a series of linked scenes. So you'll find out what the look on his face was about soon enough. :P Thank you guys, as always. xo_**


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